Plane ride.

I feel like a huge chunk of me has been yanked out. And so it happens that this chunk contained the most vital parts of what I am made up of; my favorite people, family, tids and bits of my broken childhood, memories of an imaginary home, lots of regrets, lots of happiness, lots of familiar places, so many heartbreaks, so much hurt, so much love, so much of why I am me. It's surprising how I am most unlike me at this time of my life. I guess being old hits you hard and snaps the world into an ugly perspective when you turn 20. But again, what the hell do I know, I said the same thing at 12.